by Mary Hughes
“I staked one.” I was hit by a momentary twang of mourning for Oscar.
“No stakes here,” he said reasonably. There was a momentary silence. The sort of pause that said Julian was working to choose his words.
“What,” I said. Julian the Vampire always knew what to do. Julian the Lawyer always knew what to say. For him to have to think about it meant I would not like it.
We were about to do battle and we might not win. Hell, we might not even both survive. Maybe Julian was about to say something we’d both regret later. Maybe he was about to go all emo with the L word.
“Julian,” I started.
“I need you to do something for me, Nixie.”
Oh. Not the L word. I was not disappointed. Really. “What?”
“I don’t like it. I’d rather you stay back or stay with me. But…”
“Just spit it out, Julian. What do you need me to do?”
He sighed. “I could normally handle four of Ruthven’s lieutenants by myself. But with the blood at stake…and in case there are more of them…well, it would be better if I had help. I don’t know how long it will take Bo and Logan to get here. So while I engage the vampires…I need you to open the Blood Center front door.”
“To let in the Ancient One’s ringers?” It sounded like Julian was just manufacturing an excuse to get me out of the way. “Can’t they mist in?”
“No. Only Logan and the one at the beer tent are old enough to mist. The three guarding the Blood Center entrance are well-trained, but they can’t get in. Unless you let them in.”
“Okay. No problem.”
“One problem. You’ll be on your own. If I screw up, if I let one vampire through and he catches you—” Julian’s arms came around me, hauled me to him. He planted a quick, hard kiss on my mouth. “I’d kill myself. I don’t know how it happened, but you’ve come to mean the world to me.” He kissed me again, then released me as suddenly as he’d embraced me.
“Well,” I stuttered, embarrassed. “You mean…a lot…to me, too.”
“Good. I hope that means you’ll be careful.”
The light winked four or five times as we got closer, as if bodies were passing in front of it. Maybe bad vamp reinforcements. Aw, hell. “Julian—I do lov—”
The first of Ruthven’s vampires attacked.
We were in a small cave, or actually a wider area of the tunnel. All-terrain carts waited to transport blood. Along with rogues to push them.
Julian shoved me toward the wall. The sound of growling came from behind me. Whistling slashes, and the sound of blood hitting dirt. I sure as hell hoped it wasn’t Julian’s.
A shadow passed in front of the doorway. Paused. I couldn’t see a face, but the shape and eerie way of flowing looked like Ruthven.
The shadow turned toward Julian and stiffened. It waved someone forward. Pointed at Julian.
Ruthven. It had to be. Ruthie had seen Julian. I ran toward the doorway.
The shadow silently disappeared.
Ruthie had seen Julian, and now the scaredy-rat was fleeing. Damn it!
I sprinted after the mega-slime. I didn’t know what I thought I’d do if I caught him, but him bending over and pointy spikes loomed large in my imagination.
Dirt gave way to concrete. The light improved dramatically. I saw a ladder, scrabbled up it. I recognized the Blood Center storage/donation room—just as a hand grabbed my neck.
“Well, well. Emerson’s little chew toy.” The hulk hauling me up was bigger than Ruthie but not as big as Julian. His hair was long and gnarled. His breath smelled of stale blood.
I didn’t recognize him, although he obviously knew me. His fingers pricked my neck, like his claws were out. His mouth was open, his fangs dripping with menace.
Time for Attitude. “Nice fangs, but a little small, if you know what I mean.” I gave the hulk a once-over with my baby-blues. “I’ve met all of Billy the Kid’s band, and you ain’t one. How many of you Ruthiettes are there, anyway?”
I was gratified to see his fangs recede, his snarl turn to confusion. “Ruthi-whats?”
“Ruthiettes. You know. Ruthven’s boy band. His posse.”
The hulk drew himself straight, his chin flying up. “We are Lord Ruthven’s lieutenants.”
“Oh, lieutenants. Like the Army.” I cracked imaginary gum. “Only without the training and the discipline.”
“We have discipline.” The vampire crossed his arms and tapped his foot to let me know how offended he was…incidentally letting me go.
I shrugged. “Sure. Never meant to imply otherwise. I’m sure even the Ancient One’s homies don’t get your level of training.”
“Well…”
“I’m sure you’re more than capable of beating Julian Emerson, who’s just through that door.” I jerked my head toward the hole in the wall.
“Well…” The vampire’s eyes tracked nervously toward the hole.
“And I know you’ve seen right through my ploy to keep out of that front office. You know I’ve been trying to delay you until Julian can rescue me. And to keep me out of that front office.”
“Well…yes. Of course I have!”
“Oh darn. I was hoping you wouldn’t figure it out. Maybe if I ask nicely? Please, may I wait here?” I clasped my hands in an attitude of supplication. “Just don’t throw me into that front office, Mr. Lieutenant. Please-oh-please. Anywhere but the front office.”
I thought for a second maybe I’d laid it on too thick. If he’d ever seen a Bugs Bunny cartoon or read Brer Rabbit…
“No!” The hulk’s fangs sprung out. “No mercy! You’re not keeping me here, blood-bitch. I’m taking you into that front office no matter how hard you plead!”
The front office, with the front door. How lovely.
Then he hesitated. “Unless you plead really, really hard. I might be merciful.”
Shit. A vampire with a conscience. I pretended to ignore him. “You won’t take me willingly!” I said as I rammed a spear hand into his gut.
He sucked in a breath and doubled over. Got him right in the solar plexus, paralyzed his diaphragm. For a moment I considered running, but I might only run into another vamp—who might be smarter. So I waited patiently for this one to restart his diaphragm.
Eventually he did. Gasping, he grabbed me. “That’s it, blood-bitch! No mercy. You’re going to the office!”
Heh-heh.
He hustled me into the front office. Once there it was easy. “No, please, no!” I cried in a fairly good imitation of a girly-girl, making sure I was pulling and tugging toward the storeroom for all I was worth. Even with supernatural strength he had to put his weight behind it to move me.
So all I had to do was stop resisting him.
He tumbled ass over tea kettle into the office. Released, I feinted toward the back. When he grabbed for me I reversed and headed straight for the front door. The office was all of three steps deep and I made it before the hulk even got to his hands and knees. I caught the knob, flipped the lock, and flung open the door.
Three good-guy vampires flowed in, eyes red, fangs and knives out, loaded for bear. “Back room!” I shouted, pointing. They disappeared faster than a chocolate bunny on Easter.
As I punched in the alarm shut-off code, a low growl came from behind the desk. Oh, oops. Forgot about the hulk.
He rose from the desk like Godzilla—angry, pumped, and just a little green around the gills. Blood ran from a gash in his forehead. Apparently he’d hit his head when I’d pulled my little maneuver. “You’re toast now, blood-bitch!”
“Yep. Scared.” I worked frantically on options. I rejected half a dozen, including just screaming like a girl. While I had no doubt Julian would fly to my rescue (maybe even literally) I didn’t think I could live with myself if I did that.
But what could I do? I had no bazookas and no stakes. I had an office with a filing cabinet, a desk, and a cup full of…pencils.
“Ah-ha!” I snatched up a number 2. “You’ll only w
ish you were dead after five minutes with me and this pencil!”
The hulk paled. Went almost sheet white. Well, yay! Maybe Bo was wrong. Maybe it didn’t have to be forearm thick. Maybe it was the wood that did it.
From behind me, an insouciant voice said, “Hello, Blaxx. Long time no see. Do you have that thousand you owe me?”
If anything, the hulk went paler. “Lord Logan! What a surprise. Um, I’m a little short of cash at the mo’.” The apparently named Blaxx patted down his coat.
Behind me the gorgeous blond vampire Logan stepped with lazy grace through the door. “Oh, that’s all right. I’ll just take my payment in blood.”
One second Logan was in the doorway, the next he towered over the hulk. A gleaming white, sharp smile made his face look slightly feral. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Uh…gack,” the hulk said as Logan open his throat with two flicks of what looked like a rapier. Fountains of blood spurted from the severed neck, splashing desk, wall, and pencil cup. Logan followed up with a dagger, digging out the heart with a round slash that he made look impossibly elegant.
“Hmm. That’ll leave a stain.” Sheathing the dagger, Logan picked up the cup, plucked out the pencils. Overturned the cup. A stream of red liquid poured onto the desk. Dropping the heart calmly into the cup, he arched a blond brow at me. “Where’s the party?”
“Back there,” I said, feeling a little sick. I was a kick-ass black belt, but I didn’t seem to have all the necessary prerequisites to be a vampire slayer. Oh, well. In each generation, there was only one anyway.
“Good,” Logan drawled. “I was getting bored.”
“What happened to the Sheepshead Tournament?” I asked before I could help myself. It was supposed to go on all night.
He arched the other brow. “I won, of course. Coming?”
“Uh, yeah.” Covering my nose and dodging the desk, I followed Logan’s broad back into the storage room.
Chapter Thirty
In the storage room the fight was going hot and heavy. Three ringers and Julian were pitted against a dozen vampires. Though Julian was holding his own, the ringers looked a little the worse for wear. “Well,” said Logan, gold-flecked eyes bright on the ruckus. “This ought to be entertaining.”
“A little less talking,” Julian bellowed as he swiped his foot-long blade through a vampire’s neck, “and a little more helping, if you please.”
“If you’re sure,” Logan said. “I would hate to spoil your fun.”
“Don’t hesitate on my account, Steel.” Julian caught the falling body, dug out the heart with a quick efficiency that looked more like he was pitting a cherry. Dropping the body, he lobbed the heart into the wall. “There’s more than enough to go around.” The heart went splat. I felt sick again.
“You’re doing quite nicely without me, though,” Logan said. “I don’t want to interfere if—hey!”
Enough was enough. I pushed him. “Get the fuck in there and fight.”
To my surprise, Logan laughed. “Oh, you’ll have your hands full with this one, Emerson.” He caught the neck of a passing vampire, spun the vamp to face him.
The vampire’s eyes opened wide. “Steel? Oh, shit no, not Steel!”
“Hello. And good-bye!” Faster than I could follow, Logan’s arm moved. More blood, ick. And when the body fell, there was an alarming hole in its chest.
“Nice work,” Julian said.
“Well, ya gotta have heart.” Logan tossed something red and muscley in the air like a ball and grinned.
I groaned.
“Huh. No sense of humor,” Logan said to Julian with a toss of his blond head at me. “Now why am I not surprised?”
One of the ringers passed by, retreating from two of Ruthven’s gang. “Hey,” Logan called. “No fair herding. This is Illinois, not Wisconsin or Texas. You can’t steer around here. Leather you want to or not.” He tapped one of the gang on the shoulder. The vampire whirled, eyes red, fangs extended. “You don’t cow me.” Logan’s dagger flashed out and bit deep into the rogue’s neck.
I stood in the doorway and covered my eyes. I wasn’t sure if I was more appalled at the destruction or the puns.
With both Julian and Logan fighting, the tide turned. Soon there were only two of Ruthven’s vampires left standing. Both were from the Billy the Kid band, the keyboard player and the mullet.
Two Ruthiettes, and five of our guys. Julian, Logan, and the three ringers stalked slowly forward.
The keyboard player took one look and quit fighting, his hands held high in the air. “I give! Please don’t slice off my head.”
But Mullet guy, standing near the blood refrigeration units shouted “Coward!”
And pulled out a big red button.
Uh-oh. I had seen enough movies to know a Big Red Button was never a good thing.
“One step closer and the blood’s had it!” Mullet guy squealed.
Logan stowed rapier and dagger and leaned lazily against one wall. “Can you be any more trite?”
“The threat is real,” Julian cautioned.
“Yeah, but could Razor be any cornier? ‘One step closer and the blood’s had it.’ What kind of self-respecting villain uses such hackneyed dialog?”
Razor? What was it with these guys? Stupid-Name-of-the-Month Club?
Julian shook his head. “Whatever he says, Logan, we can’t take chances.”
“Listen to Emerson.” Razor backed toward the office doorway. “After all, he’s the smart one.”
“I think I’ve just been insulted.” Logan clapped both hands to his heart.
Ignoring him, Julian said to mullet guy, “I’m smart enough to know that button has only a limited range. How far do you think you’ll get, Razor?”
In a flash, Razor reached out. Grabbed me. Winched me in, held me tight against his body. “Far enough.”
I huffed a disgusted breath. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”
“Nixie!” Julian’s nostrils flared and his eyes were instantly red. “If you hurt her, Razor, I will tear you in pieces.”
“I won’t hurt her—if she behaves.” Razor continued backing toward the doorway, forcing me with him. “This time. But you won’t always be here, Emerson.” He cackled. “Or you, Steel. Or your precious Ancient One or any of his oh-so-wonderful lieutenants.”
“Bo will be here.” Julian was obviously holding himself in check only with the greatest difficulty. “And his lieutenants are every bit as well-trained.”
I wondered about that. Bo had Steve and Thorvald. There was also Stark of Stark and Moss Funeral Home, but he kept pretty much to himself. Dru, too, but as far as I knew, that was the entire permanent vampire population of Meiers Corners.
While Razor and the rest of Ruthven’s shorties lived less than an hour away in Chicago.
Well. Looked like I was going to have to learn to save myself.
I still had the pencil. While it probably wouldn’t do much good as a stake, it was quite pointy. Driven through a body part, it would still hurt like hell.
The particular body part I had in mind was Razor’s Big-Red-Button hand. I’d learned enough to know I couldn’t go for it directly. In a straight speed and reflex contest, a vampire would win, every time.
But I’d learned from fighting Mr. Miyagi in my black belt classes that old age and treachery win against youth and agility. So, mix those up, sort of, and you get human treachery winning against vampire agility. I hoped.
I feinted, twisting in Razor’s grip like I was going to pull away. In reality I was getting my pencil hand free. When he followed and tightened his arm around me like a vise, I let him. I’d gotten what I wanted.
A free stab.
The sharp pencil went satisfyingly deep. I felt a gasp. Razor emitted such a high-pitched squeal I thought he’d shape-shifted into a pig.
Julian peeled Razor off me in an instant, while Logan caught the button that fell from his injured hand.
“She…she stabbed me!” Razor ga
sped in disbelief.
“So she did.” Wrapping me in his arms, Julian’s tone was a mixture of relief and pride. “My Nixie can take care of herself, and you’d better not forget it.”
My Nixie? Face sheltered in Julian’s yummy abs, I wondered when I had become his Nixie. I also wondered at the burst of pleasure I felt hearing that. Hadn’t I already established I was only his Nixie as long as he was in Meiers Corners? Once he went back to Boston, he would become his tight-ass lawyerly Emerson again.
And I would go back to being my own punk and lonely Nixie.
The pain of that made me suddenly want to do something, anything, to make him stay. To be my Julian. To be his Nixie, maybe forever.
Oh, fuck. I was in love with the jerk.
“Nixie?” Elena’s voice, from the front door. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” I told her wearily, turning away from the beguiling, silky warmth of Julian’s skin. “As is the Blood Center.”
Hitching her SMAW on her shoulder, Elena came through the door. Behind her hovered her husband Bo, fanged and ready. “What’s going on?” he asked. “I only got part of the story.”
Julian released me. “Ruthven’s lieutenants were going to highjack the shipment of blood through a tunnel. They must have been here for some time, digging from the Roller-Blayd warehouse into the Blood Center.”
I said, “But the festival put a crimp in their plans. Especially having all those people listening to bands in the Roller-Blayd factory.”
“That’s why they wanted to play first,” Julian said. “To drive everyone from the warehouse.”
“So no one would see them bringing up the blood,” Elena said.
“Exactly. When we foiled that, they tried to blow up the evidence. Nixie saved the day.”
“Nixie?” Elena looked startled.
“My Nixie.” Julian pulled me tight.
“Your Nixie?”
“His Nixie,” Logan said helpfully.
“Well,” said Bo to no one in particular. “That explains the state of the limo.”
I blushed. “Okay, okay!” I pulled away from Julian’s possessive arms. “But we’ve got a festival to protect, people! Let’s get organized. Ruthie’s minions are taken care of, but they’re not the only Lestats in Meiers Corners! And Ruthie’s not the only member of the Coterie interested in us. Because while we’ve been dealing with the Ruthiettes—”